Wednesday
by xxDreamWalkerxx
Summary: "People live there?" she asked, shocked. He shrugged, seemingly bashful and joined her next to the pillar, his hands in his pockets. "Like I said, they're weird," he shook his head. "Macabre, would be a more fitting term. But nonetheless, excellent company and quite the entertainers. I'm friends with the daughter of the owners, Wednesday." Jefferson/OC


**A/N: I haven't seen this done yet, so hopefully it's original enough. I was inspired by my binge watching of Halloween movies, so I hope you enjoy!**

 **Disclaimer: I actually don't own anything, just my own plot line! Any and all mistakes are my own!**

 **Wednesday  
Chapter 1: Hat Trick**

* * *

 **"You severely underestimate my apathy,"  
-Wednesday Addams**

* * *

A comfortable silence was set between the two strangers as Emma drove. There wasn't much direction he could give her; as he said, he did live just down the road. It was a straight stretch of dirt turned mud between his house and the town.

Although, as they pulled up to the house, Emma had quite the trouble fixing that term for it.

"Wow, this is your house? It looks more like a hotel," she commented as they stepped out of the still running car. "You must have a huge family."

"Nope," Jefferson replied, shutting the car door. "It's just me," he said, turning back to face her. "My neighbors-" he gestured across the street, "on the other hand, have quite the family. Strange, but kind." Emma gave him a weird look and stepped around the pillars holding the canopy in place, having not seen another house when she pulled in. Alas, there it was, and it was no wonder why she missed it.

The entire house itself was dark, no lights coming from within. The paint was chipped and frayed, ivy climbed up the walls, and the shutters were unhinged and in disarray. She understood why she missed it: it blended into the dark sky, and the forest surrounding it. Unlike Jefferson's well-manicured house and lawn, this house looked-well, it looked like a piece of shit, if she was being quite honest. The grass in front of the house was dead, the driveway pavement cracked. The mailbox was made of stone it seemed, and a large, steel gate blocked entrance to the whole estate, accompanied by two, marble gargoyles that sat at either side. All in all, the house was haunting. She couldn't understand how someone could-and would-live in it.

"People live there?" she asked, shocked. He shrugged, seemingly bashful and joined her next to the pillar, his hands in his pockets.

"Like I said, they're weird," he shook his head. "Macabre, would be a more fitting term. But nonetheless, excellent company and quite the entertainers. I'm friends with the daughter of the owners, Wednesday. She should be coming over any minute: we have tea every other day," he said as he turned to head into his house. "I wouldn't be surprised if she's already here and found her way in." Emma watched him limp up the stairs and felt a wave of guilt crashed into her.

"Here, wait," she stalled him, ducking in to take the keys out of the ignition as she jogged up the few steps he'd already made to help him. He was quick to unlock it when they made it to the door and invited her in.

"Jefferson," a monotonous tone greeted them as a young woman joined them in the foyer. She lad long, dark hair with a pale, unhealthy complexion. A long, black dress-no, gown-adorned her thin, lithe body. It had a cinched waist and reached the floor, flaring out. It was patterned, but Emma wasn't close enough to see it. The neckline exposed her long neck and sharp collarbone, her shoulders set back in a regal stance.

"Wednesday," he greeted warmly. "Find your way in okay?"

"Yes," the woman-Wednesday-answered. She flicked her dark eyes to Emma with disinterest. "I apologize, if I were aware you were with company I wouldn't have come over."

"No, it's fine. Emma, this is Wednesday, one of my neighbors," he swung his arm towards the woman. "Wednesday, this is Emma, the new Sheriff."

"Hi," Emma nodded.

"Hello," Wednesday said coldly. Jefferson shot Emma an apologetic glance and began to walk into the house. "Are you hurt?" Wednesday said suddenly, looking at his leg with a keen interest.

"Yes," Jefferson answered, giving his leg a wayward glimpse. "Just a simple twist, I think. No blood," he chuckled as she seemed to sag, looking disappointed. "Emma was just helping me back home."

"How kind of her," she said emotionlessly, still with a stone like expression. Jefferson hummed in agreement, ignoring her indifference as he turned to Emma and waved her forward, welcoming her into his house.

"Please, join us for tea," he invited. Emma immediately shook her head.

"I don't want to intrude, besides-I have to get back to-"

"Finding your dog," Jefferson finished. "I have some maps that could help you. But please, stay for a drink, it's the least I could do." Emma deflated, seeing no other reason to decline aside from the fact that she didn't want to be in the same room as this woman; she gave off crazy vibes like you wouldn't believe.

"Sure," she muttered, giving him a small smile. "Why not?" He smiled widely and turned to go into another room. "I'll just go get those maps for you. Wednesday, could you show Emma to the living room, please?"

"Of course," the woman replied impassively, her eyes dark. "Follow me, Sheriff." She turned and walked in long, graceful strides, her dress dancing around her feet. Emma got a glimpse of her shoes as she followed the woman; they were pointed flats with laces, the bottoms covered in metal.

"Call me Emma, please," the shorter woman replied.

"Alright, Emma," Wednesday acquiesced.

"I didn't catch your last name," Emma told her.

"That's because I didn't give it to you," the woman said, unconcerned. Emma blinked at the woman's blatant tone.

"Uh, okay," Emma muttered to herself as they entered the living room.

"Make yourself at home," Wednesday said coldly, before turning to what Emma assumed to be the kitchen. Emma approached the fireplace, gripping the mantle in her hands as she thought about Mary Margaret. Where she could be, why she left, _how_ she left...

"Here it is," Jefferson limped into the room, a wound up map in his hands. Wednesday joined him as she entered, a tray with a teapot and three cups in her hands. She set it on the coffee table as Jefferson unraveled the map and splayed it on the piano. Emma joined him as Wednesday poured her a cup of tea.

"How did you get this?" she asked in interest, inspecting it. She accepted the cup offered to her mindlessly, thanking the strange, dark haired woman.

"I'm a bit of an amateur cartographer. Mapping the area is a hobby. Maybe this well help you track down your dog," he suggested as Wednesday took a seat on the couch, her own cup of tea cradled in her hands.

"Wow," Emma murmured, impressed with detail of the map.

"What's his name?" Jefferson asked, making Emma freeze inwardly and wrack for a name.

"Spot," Emma answered.

"Huh," Jefferson nodded with a little chuckle. "Cute."

"Well," Emma began, mostly talking to herself in order to fill the awkward silence as Jefferson took the last teacup from Wednesday. "Route 6 runs the boundary of the forest, so," she interrupted herself as she took another sip of her tea. "So, if I just follow that I should-" she braced her arms against the piano to catch her tumble, suddenly hit with a dizzy spell. "Be able to-" she slurred slightly, not understanding what was happening. She bad been fine a second ago-

"Something wrong?" Jefferson asked in concern from behind her.

"I'm just, um, feeling a little-" she stumbled back, straight into his arms as he prevented her fall. "Let me help you," he sighed, sounding a little impatient. Wednesday watched with mild interest.

"Dizzy," Emma completed her sentence with a gasp as he stood her back up.

"I'll just lie you down here," Jefferson dragged her to the couch, helping her sit as she fell in a half up, half down position. "There you go," he muttered, making eye contact with Wednesday as she leisurely sipped her tea.

"Let me get you some air," he started walking, planning to open a window. Through her blurry gaze, Emma noticed his long legs and his straight steps. His limp was gone.

"Your limp," Emma said in amazement, not grasping the situation. Jefferson paused, his facial expression completely changing as he straightened. "Oh," he realized. "That," he smiled suddenly, walking towards her with his hands in his pockets. "I guess you caught me," he said darkly, the expression on his face reminding Emma of his female companion.

At the thought, she glanced towards the dark haired woman, who surveyed the situation with indifference, idly consuming her tea. The empty teacup fell from Emma's hands as she became even more dazed.

"Who are you?" she muttered, finally understanding she was in a bad situation. A very, _very_ bad situation. Her words made Jefferson smile maniacally, which she completely missed as she finally passed out.

"You think this will work?" Wednesday's apathetic tone carried through the silence.

"It has to," Jefferson said grimly.

* * *

Emma groaned as she woke up, feeling the strain on her shoulders from the duct tape around her wrists, forcing her arms behind her back. Quickly realizing she was restricted from too much movement and gagged, she looked around, hoping for an idea to strike her. Spotting the empty teacup she'd dropped on the rug when she passed out, she grabbed the edge of a plush, red velvet colored pillow with her teeth and dropped it on top of the glass in order to muffle the sound. She quickly struck it with her feet and slid to the ground, taking one of the largest shards and using it to slice through the duct tape. Quickly untying the gag and unraveling the duct tape around her ankles, she stood searched the room for an escape room. Rushing to the three windows behind the couch, she tried each window for a latch or lock. Not finding any, she moved to the telescope, finding it's placement odd.

Looking through it, she felt her blood run cold. **Storybrooke's Sheriff Department** stared back at her. Moving the telescope to the left instinctively, she could see her desk clearly.

She started at the sound of metal scraping. She stepped towards the door, opening it as silently as possible. Across the hall, Jefferson stood in another room with his back to her, a large pair of scissors in his hands as he sharpened the blades with a knife sharpener. Holding her breath, Emma snuck out of the room wordlessly, creeping down the hall. She winced and paused when she stepped on a loose floorboard, hearing Jefferson halt as well with the scissors. She hurried to the next door, turning in and closing the door with a barely breathed sigh of relief before she heard cries of distress.

Turning around, her eyes widened comically at the sight of Mary Margaret, bound and gagged, similar to the way she had been.

"What is going on?" she hissed to herself, rushing to remove the gag and ties binding her friend. She missed the figure sitting in the corner, and the way Mary Margaret's eyes frantically gestured to it.

"Emma," Mary Margaret whispered hurriedly, in a panic. "She's here, Emma. She's here." Emma frowned.

"Who's here?" she asked in confusion, moving on tho her friend's ankles, swearing inwardly at whoever taught that man how to tie.

"Me," Emma froze at the voice, wanting to bash her head into the wall. _How had she forgotten about the creepy lady?_ she inwardly scolded herself, standing rigidly as she faced the woman. Wednesday met her gaze evenly.

"Why are you doing this?" Emma spoke clearly, trying to hide how unnerving she found the dark haired woman. Mary Margaret finally freed her other ankle, standing behind the blonde woman.

"Jefferson knows I like to watch people struggle," the woman said simply, her dead eyes staring into Emma's. "Your friend was much more interesting than you. She was awake."

Emma started at the woman's words, feeling a shiver run down her back.

"Please, let us go," Mary Margaret tried. The woman tilted her head for a second, looking puzzled. "Why do you need my permission? You can walk, can't you?" she slid her eyes to their legs obviously and back up to their eyes.

"You won't stop us?" Emma asked as she slowly moved to the door.

"What does it matter to me?" she shrugged indifferently. Not taking a chance to second guess the woman's motives, she rushed to the door and pulled it open, hastily exiting. Mary Margaret was on her heels, a hand clapped over her mouth to keep herself silent. They both froze at the sound of a _'click'_ from a gun.

"I see you found Spot," Jefferson said gleefully to Emma with a little laugh, waving the gun in Mary Margaret's direction.

"I've already called for back up, they'll be here any second-"

"You haven't called anybody," Jefferson stated knowingly, looking between the two. "For the same reason you didn't tell me about her. You don't want anybody to know you're here, which means, nobody does," he said slowly. "So now tie her back up." He followed them back to the room, watching diligently as Emma tied her up.

"Emma-" Mary Margaret spoke quietly.

"It's gonna be okay," Emma interrupted her as she slid the gag back into her friend's mouth. Standing solidly next to her friend, she spoke bravely to the man, "Your telescope. You've been watching me." Jefferson slid his hand off the doorjamb and approached her as asked him why.

"I need you to do something," was all he said, sounding ominous. He shoved her into the hallway, looking back at Wednesday. "I'm assuming you'd like to stay here."

"You know how I love to watch them squirm," she agreed, watching with a dangerous interest as Mary Margaret protested. He smiled maniacally, swinging the door shut. Mary Margaret froze in fear as the woman stood and approached her. Wednesday tilted her head in interest at the woman.

"Do you know how to braid?"

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 **A/N: This is sort of a test run to see if people like it, so hopefully any future chapters will be much longer. Review and let me know if you enjoyed! xx**


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